Salvation
by Lyska
Summary: Nobody would ever guess who it was that held Harry's sanity together when everyone in the school turned on him once again.


Disclaimer This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling and the companies she picked. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Beta Winterstorrm

Prompt Written for HP_KinkFest – Prompt Number 137 submitted by kamerreon "

Kink Showcased Bondage

Pairing Marcus Flint / Harry Potter

Warnings Angst, Chan (sort of)

Summary Nobody would ever guess who it was that held Harry's sanity together when everyone in the school turned on him once again.

A/N Kamerreon asked for non-porn bondage. I hope to have met her expectations.

* * *

**Salvation**

Harry grabbed his quill tighter, trying to stop the trembling of his hand. He sat in the darkest corner of the library, hidden from everyone, in an alcove. Nobody would find him here but that didn't reduce the panic coursing through his body. He scowled slightly when the shaking became so strong that he had to stop writing his potions essay. Taking a deep breath, Harry looked around in the gloomy alcove he was sitting in. It was lightened by a lone torch at the wall opposite the door and only held two chairs and a desk. If you didn't know it was there, you would never be able to find it. He had stumbled on it last year when he'd tried to get away from everyone.

Ever since his second year, Harry felt tense when he was around more than two people at a time – Quidditch was the only exception because of his love for flying. The whole school watched him every time he left the common room and either hailed him as Slytherin's heir or denounced him as killer. Together with all the hexes sent his way it had left a mark on Harry's soul, although he had tried to ignore everybody. Hermione and Ron had helped him at that time to forget the thousands of eyes focused on him; however, it still was very creepy. Harry had naively thought that his third year would be better; he had, after all, rescued the school and was _not_ a Muggle-born-slaying monster. Oh, how wrong he had been.

Being proclaimed as a killer was bad enough; however, having a killer after your hide was worse. Harry was either watched with looks full of pity or gloating – depending on who it was – and had nowhere to hide. Even in his own dormitory, his friends walked around him on eggshells. After the second week in his third year, he had been ready to tear his hair out and was as jumpy as a grasshopper whenever somebody came from behind him. More than once he had nearly cursed one of his friends and was always looking over his shoulder for something threatening. It was then that Harry had started looking for a refuge, some place only he knew where he could be alone and finally relax again. If he had to go on longer without a chance to lose this tension his mind would snap sooner rather than later.

After trying out a few abandoned classrooms, even some in the deepest dungeon corridors, he had accidentally found this alcove whilst looking for a book for on Herbology. Harry had been reaching for a higher shelf when he lost his footing and somehow dropped his glasses. Feeling around on the ground in the dimly lit corner, he found deep marks on the ground, as if a door had scraped over it while opened or closed. Harry had checked for a hidden door in the bookcase in front of the wall after he had found his glasses again. It took him a few days to identify the right password to get the bookcase to open. The time was well spent, however, because now he couldn't be found at all.

The rest of the third year had been manageable. Harry would spend as much time in his refuge as he could and was as relaxed as possible whilst being in mortal danger. His friends noticed the change in him but never commented on it or tried to stop him leaving. Harry knew they were happy that he was more like his old self.

He had been hopeful to have a normal year for a change, however when his name came out of the Goblet of Fire all his dreams had been destroyed, again. Harry now only went to class and to his dorm room shortly before curfew, spending the rest of the time hiding away from prying eyes, especially Ron's. He was hurt that his best friend could believe that he had put his name in the goblet when the redhead should know his aversion to being in the spotlight, outside of Quidditch.

This year Harry wasn't only tense like a taut spring; he had also panic attacks after Moody had explained why he was most likely in the Tournament. It didn't matter where he was, what he did, or how relaxed he was he couldn't get rid of his panic attacks. He hadn't been _that_ shaken last year when a suspected murderer had followed him. Harry guessed that this was the long term effect after his life had been threatened in one way or another every year since he came to Hogwarts. He would do _anything_ to get rid of the attacks again. Most of the time now Dobby was his only contact who provided him with food or just silent company.

Harry sighed. Tonight he wouldn't be able to finish his homework at all, he was too overwrought to calm his nerves and stop the trembling. Arguing with himself, he decided to read ahead for his next classes and to spend the rest of the day in front of the fire in the common room – hopefully without getting in a row with Ron, again. Gathering his books and scrolls together, Harry made his way out of the alcove and into the library. He stepped on a ladder to read the titles on the spines at the highest shelf in the Charm's section and selected a heavy book on summoning charms. Pulling out the book Harry noticed too late that he could never hold the tome while standing on a ladder and fell backwards. Closing his eyes, he hoped hitting the floor wouldn't hurt too much, however he never made it that far.

Strong arms had caught him, holding him against a hard chest in a vice like grip so he couldn't move at all. For the first time this year Harry felt very calm. His body relaxed against the body and soaked up the comfort like a sponge for as long as he could. All too soon, the arms lost their hold of him and Harry reluctantly opened his eyes. Marcus Flint, Slytherin's Quidditch captain and in his seventh year for the second time at Hogwarts looked bemusedly down at him.

Blushing brightly Harry wriggled in his grasp trying to get down. He was mortified to his bones to have nearly melted into the roughest and meanest Slytherin of the whole school. The arms around his body tightened once more, stopping his movements completely. Green eyes widened as Harry involuntary went boneless again and he looked at Flint like a deer caught in the headlights of the Hogwarts Express. Grey eyes watched him calculatingly as Marcus changed his grip slowly a few times more, making Harry unintentionally tense and relax each time.

Footsteps came near their row, prompting Marcus to set Harry gently down before he vanished around the bookcase. The Gryffindor stared, bewildered, after the retreating figure, trying to wrap his mind around what had happened between them. When he picked up the large tome, he noticed his hands – his _steady_ hands. The panic he had felt just half an hour before was completely gone. Harry shouldered his bag and made his way back to his refuge. Maybe he would get some work done today after all.

- (o)-

The next week Harry felt grey eyes following him closely wherever he went, however he didn't feel threatened by them. Since his encounter with Flint in the library, he felt oddly calm and had taken up eating in the Great Hall once more. Hermione was stunned but didn't dare to ask. Harry was happy to have such a good friend and spent more time with her.

His newfound calmness only lasted until the weekend. When Harry walked into the Great Hall at breakfast, all eyes focused on him once more. His step faltered on his way to the seat next to his bushy haired friend and panic crept up his spine. Harry dropped stiffly on the bench and looked questioningly at Hermione, afraid what had happened now to cause this reaction. She held the front page of the Daily Prophet higher and he could read the bold headline _"Boy-Who-Cheated"_ above a moving picture of him, taken at the Halloween feast when his name had come out of the goblet. Harry felt the blood drain out of his face and saw Ron glaring at him from further down the table. He didn't know why such lies were written about him but the faces all over the Great Hall made it clear, that everyone believed the article – except Hermione.

Harry's hand shook when he grabbed the pitcher with the pumpkin juice and he tried not to spill a drop when he filled his goblet. His stomach churned with nerves and juice would be the only thing he would be able to stomach right now. Feeling his neck prickle warmly Harry looked up, directly into the grey eyes of Marcus Flint. The Slytherin tilted his head slightly to the side as if the Gryffindor was a puzzle he wanted to solve. His gaze burned into Harry with an intensity that caused the younger boy to blush and drop his eyes onto the tablecloth.

Harry left as soon as he dared, not wanting everyone to think he'd run away, and went straight to his refuge. The door closed with an audible _click_ behind him, cloaking him in complete darkness. Slowly his breathing calmed down while he leaned trembling on the wall beside the door. He cursed his panic attacks for the umpteenth time since Halloween. Harry didn't want to look weak, however running away and hiding somewhere clearly wasn't a show of strength.

Harry jumped when a knocking sounded from his left– somebody had found his refuge. His panic came back full force. Harry held his breath, hoping that whoever was on the other side would go away when he didn't make a sound. After a few minutes in total silence Harry relaxed slowly back to his now normal level of nerves only to nearly jump out of his skin when the door opened slowly. A blinding flash of light was the only warning he got before he was bound from head to toe with thick ropes. Harry futilely struggled to reach his wand, almost hyperventilating in his panic.

A dark, bulky figure slipped into the alcove and closed the door again. Seconds later light flooded the room, revealing the towering figure of Marcus Flint to Harry. His reaction was instantaneous – he nearly slipped to the floor when all his muscles relaxed completely and only the Slytherin's quick reflexes avoided the collision of Harry's head with the unforgiving stones.

Flint lowered the Gryffindor slowly onto the floor and cushioned his head with a thick, rolled up robe before the older boy sat down on the nearest chair, watching the bound figure. Silence surrounded both boys and only calm breathing could be heard. Harry didn't know how long he lay there, basking in the feeling of absolute safety and peace before the rope became constricting and uncomfortable. He must have moved or made a small sound because only seconds later he was free again.

Harry sat up and looked at Flint. He was at a total loss. How could he feel so safe and free in the company of the most notorious Slytherin while lying completely helpless? However, the more important question was why the older boy did what he did and therefore led Harry back from his panic attack. Everybody in the whole castle knew Marcus Flint for his brutal manner against anyone outside of his house – hell, even inside the dungeons he was feared by many. Now here he was, watching the small Gryffindor without even the smallest ill intent in his facial expression.

"Why?" The word was spoken so softly that Harry was sure the larger boy couldn't have heard him.

"It helped," came the gruff answer.

Harry sighed. This wasn't the answer he expected, however he knew nothing more would be said.

"Thanks," the younger boy blushed, ducking his head. He watched from underneath his lashes when Flint smoothly stood up and walked to the door. Harry wanted to stop the Slytherin and stay as long as possible in the calm presence the other radiated but he stayed mute. The soft _click_ announced that he was alone again.

- (o)-

Once again Harry lay bound on the floor inside his alcove while Marcus Flint watched him intently. This scene had been repeated twice already since that day at the start of November – after a disastrous interview with Rita Skeeter, and also following the fallout from the article the next day. Harry still couldn't understand why, exactly, being bound by the Slytherin was helping him and had spent days mulling things over in his head. He knew that if anyone else would bind him so he couldn't move at all he would panic more instead of feeling totally safe. Where the trust for the normally rough Slytherin came from Harry didn't know. However after the third time he had decided not to complicate things and just accepted his unusual reaction to Marcus Flint.

It took a long while today until his bonds got uncomfortable, showing how deep Harry had been caught in the maelstroms of his panic. An hour ago the Gryffindor had learned what his first task will be – dragons. He had to move past a real, living, fire breathing _dragon_.

Rubbing his arms and legs to re-start the circulation, Harry sat up and looked at his companion. He was still slightly shaken deep inside him; however, it would be manageable and surely wouldn't change until after his first task.

"Dragons," the word was all the explanation Flint needed to understand the fresh panic attack. Harry watched him while thoughts drifted through the Slytherin's head. They never really spoke with each other besides one-word sentences after his bonds were removed.

"Fly," was the advice after a short while. "You're good at it."

Harry was dumbfounded after that compliment. The idea, however, had merit and clearly was worth some consideration, so he nodded slowly.

"Good luck." The door clicked shut after the other boy, leaving the Gryffindor and his forming plans alone.

- (o)-

Harry fidgeted in his seat at lunch on Christmas day. Tendrils of fear crept up his spine for the first time since his discovery of the dragons. The first task had been relatively easy for him, after all he needed flying like breathing and he had been able to tune out the audience. Since then the combined presence of Hermione and Ron – he still hadn't forgiven the redhead completely for the many hurtful words – had kept the other castle occupants away from him and the Daily Prophet had been oddly quite.

However, this evening at the Yule Ball Harry would once again be in the hated spotlight. His fingers tapped lightly on the table, causing Hermione to look at him.

"Go. Dessert is nearly finished and I know you need to be alone. So just go," Hermione whispered intently. Ron was listening and nodded his agreement.

Harry looked at them and nodded after a short while. He missed the grey eyes watching him when he silently left the Great Hall. On his way to the alcove Harry pondered how he would survive the evening without a full blown panic attack. He chuckled slightly when he imagined the gobsmacked faces of everybody if Flint would use the Incarcerous charm on him in the middle of the dance floor. Harry sighed, knowing that being bound from head to toe in front of the whole school wouldn't have the same effect like the _sessions_ in his refuge with the strange Slytherin.

The single torch lit up as soon as he stepped inside the alcove. Harry's eyes fell on the large package sitting innocently on the desk. There was only one person who could have placed it there because he didn't think that somebody could persuade Dobby to deliver it. Harry walked slowly to the desk, wondering what kind of gift Marcus Flint would give him. He traced the dark green silk bow reverently before loosening the knot and lifting the top.

Harry's breath caught in his throat. Inside the box lay dark green cotton rope, the single parts perfectly coiled individually. It must be nearly fifty meter rope in various lengths from three to ten metres. He took the shortest rope and let it slide over his hands. It was baby soft and wouldn't itch at all if he were bound without his protecting robes. His heart pounded wildly while Harry thought about the many different possibilities Flint could use his gift on him. It would be so much more intimate than using the conjured rope on top of his clothes. He didn't know if he was ready to make this next step and to allow the Slytherin to touch him all over his body while he was being bound.

Harry put the rope back inside the box, determined to ignore the gift for now. His fingers touched a piece of parchment, hidden between the coils. Intrigued he picked it up. _7p.m._ was the short message written in a barely legible scrawl. Marcus wanted to meet him one hour before the Yule Ball. Why? Harry thought it would make more sense for them to meet after the ball, surely by then he would only hang on a small thread of his sanity.

Shaking his head he closed the box and sat down to read his latest book about advanced charms until it was time to go back to the Gryffindor common room. Harry would meet the Slytherin here later and ask him.

- (o)-

At seven sharp Harry opened the bookcase to his refuge. He was clad in his dark green dress robes with black trousers and white shirt. He vainly tried to loosen his collar because he wasn't used to wearing such stiff attire. Marcus Flint was already inside the alcove and held a long piece of rope.

"Strip," the curt command was thrown at Harry as soon as he closed the door.

"What?" the Gryffindor squeaked, completely caught off-guard.

"Strip. You need to be bound." Harry blinked at Flint and tried to think why the older boy made such a remark. When he didn't move his clothes vanished with a barked spell, leaving Harry only in his boxer shorts, shoes and socks in the middle of the room. He squealed when cold air hit his unprotected skin and tried to hide behind his arms.

"Stand still. Arms to the side." Marcus stood in front of him and grabbed his arms, making Harry hold them horizontal to his sides.

The Slytherin then proceeded to lay the rope around Harry's neck and to form four knots in the double held cord, equally apart from each other with the first at the top of his sternum and the last over his pubic bone a hand wide above his cock. Flint separated the rope and carefully placed them left and right to his cock and balls without touching them.

Harry blushed brightly to the tips of his ears when the older boy directed the cord between his legs, uncomfortably near his private parts. Flint moved behind him and repeated his knotting with the double rope before pulling the ends underneath the string on his neck. The calmness Harry had learned to anticipate with being bound slowly filled his body with each new knot and he didn't feel silly anymore.

"Bend over," came the next command and Harry carefully arched forward until his hands reached the floor. He felt Marcus adjusting the rope as he moved, making sure nothing would cut into his flesh when he sat down later. Harry knew now that the larger boy expected him to wear the rope corset beneath his dress robes and was secretly glad about it. It would help him to enjoy the Yule Ball without being too tense to dance.

"Get up," Marcus said slowly and moved back in front of Harry after he stood straight once more. The next minutes were spent with Flint walking around him, weaving the rope left and right around Harry's body and hooking it through the openings between the knots, forming a diamond pattern on his chest and back. The cord also separated the parts next to his cock, making Harry relax even more now that his private parts weren't in danger to be cut off anymore.

Finally Flint made the last knot holding everything together and wound the remaining length around the lowest parts of the corset. He nodded once and left Harry alone after informing him to meet him here at midnight.

Harry conjured two mirrors as soon as Marcus had left. He _had_ to look at himself right _now_. His breath caught in his throat when he saw the beautiful pattern on his body, the dark green made the perfect contrast on his pale skin. Harry turned this way and that, marvelling how the rope constricted his movements only barely while hugging him tightly enough to let him be calm.

He looked at his watch and cursed softly under his breath when it showed it was five to eight. Harry hastened to redress himself and rushed along the corridors. With the first stroke to eight he stopped panting heavily next to Parvati Patil and held out his arm to her. He would make the best out of the evening, sure in his secret knowledge about the corset under his robes that would help him to relax.

- (o)-

Harry whispered _Salvation_ and slipped shortly after midnight back into his refuge. The Yule Ball had been as much fun as a formal ball could be for a fourteen year old boy. Only the large row between Ron and Hermione left a bitter taste in his mouth and he hoped that the friendship between the three friends wouldn't be strained again so soon.

He gladly loosened his bow tie and shrugged off his dress robes. Harry detested formal attire; he was used to wide clothing after all. He turned around when he heard Marcus Flint stepping inside the small room.

"Hi," Harry greeted the other boy. "How was your evening?" He was in a good mood and hoped to grow out of the one-word sentences he normally exchanged with the Slytherin. He still didn't know why he allowed the other boy to get near him like nobody else and what the Slytherin gained from this strange relationship, however, Harry accepted the good results without excessively questioning.

"Okay," the reply was short as ever although it lacked the normal gruff tone. "Want to stay here?" The question caught Harry off guard for the second time this evening. He narrowed his eyes in contemplation and looked intently at Flint.

"What do you suggest?" Harry asked slowly, not really knowing how the evening would end.

Marcus held a long rope up. "To bind you more. Just sleeping; I'm not gay."

Harry's shoulders relaxed slightly. Only after the older boy mentioned sex even in the most remotely form he realized what he had been afraid of.

"Okay," Harry nodded. "Just sleeping." He looked around in the gloomy alcove. "Can you transfigure something into a bed?"

Flint nodded and changed the desk in a king-sized, Slytherin-green four-poster bed with a thick duvet. It would leave enough room for both boys to sleep comfortably without touching.

They stripped with their backs turned to each other, only leaving them in their boxer shorts. Marcus took the rope and crouched down behind the younger boy. The Slytherin proceeded to wind the rope around Harry's ankles, securing it with a tight knot, and wound the rope around his calves, knees and upper thighs, hooking the cord each time under the vertical part.

Harry swayed slightly, trying to maintain his balance while his legs where bound together. The rope was suddenly pushed into his hands and he was picked up in bridal style by strong arms before put down on the bed and rolled on his stomach. It happened so fast that he still tried to regain his senses while the rope ends were tightly secured at his corset.

Broad hands grabbed Harry's shoulders and he was turned on his back. He looked up in Marcus' face and saw an intense look there. The older boy was concentrating on his task and not seeing Harry at all beside as the body he was tying up. The same rough hands took his wrists, moving them in front of his body like Harry was praying.

"Don't move," was said before a new, short rope was wound around his wrists a few times before one end was directed between his hands and looped twice around the rope, separating Harry's hands like handcuffs. A single knot pinned the cord. The ends were then hooked under the highest diamond opening in the corset. Flint fastened the ends with more knots after making sure Harry's arms had enough leeway to be moved.

"Loose enough?" the Slytherin asked after sitting back on his heels. Harry wriggled a bit and nodded. Nowhere was the cord so tight that his circulation was cut and he could still turn on his side by himself.

"Good," Marcus sounded satisfied and lay down beside Harry. The heavy duvet was draped across both bed's occupants and a whispered _Nox_ cloaked the room in complete darkness.

For the first time since Halloween Harry felt completely safe in Hogwarts. He could get used to it and wondered how to make sure this wasn't a one-time event. The only thing he was certain about was that he would tell nobody about his source of contentment. They wouldn't believe him anyway.

Lying bound next to the strange Slytherin Harry let the calmness and peace wash over him once again and surrendered to the best sleep in his life.

The End


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